Friday, September 18, 2009

Something short and something sweet.

Look at the sunflower, he said, there was a dead gray 
shadow against the sky, big as a man, sitting
dry on top of a pile of ancient sawdust-
-I rushed up enchanted- it was my first sunflower,
memories of Blake-my visions-Harlem
and Hells of the Eastern rivers, bridges clanking Joes
Greasy Sandwiches, dead baby carriages, black
treadless tires forgotten and unretreaded, the 
poem of the riverbank, pots, steel 
knives, nothing stainless, only the dank muck
and the razor-sharp artifacts passing into the
and the gray Sunflower poised against the sunset,
crackly bleak and dusty with the smut and smog
and smoke of olden locomotives in its eye-
corolla of bleary spikes pushed down and broken like 
a battered crown, seeds fallen out of its face,
soon-to-be-toothless mouth of sunny air, sun-
rays obliterated on its hairy head like a dried
wire spiderweb,
leaves stuck out like arms out of the stem, gestures
from the sawdust root, broke pieces of plaster
fallen out of the black twigs, a dead fly in its ear,
Unholy battered old thing you were, my sunflower O
my soul, I loved you then!

Excerpt from "Sunflower Sutra" by Allen Ginsberg
photos by Denise Grünstein

Sorry I've been away for a few days, dears.
I've been busy with a photo shoot, editing, and life in general!
Will show you new photos soon soon soon!

1 comment:

Heart in a cage said...

a short and sweet post indeed;)